


Demons you can never escape

by alamerysl



Series: Unfinished Dragon Age Snippets [3]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Drama, Gen, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, Past Torture, unfinished work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2019-02-09 02:20:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12878118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alamerysl/pseuds/alamerysl
Summary: In which Trevelyan was in Kirkwall at the same time as Cullen Rutherford and has issues.Two variations on how a reunion could have gone.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Another snippet unearthed from my hard drive that I was encouraged to post. I wanted to explore an Inquisitor with more baggage and rage than typically seen and has trouble finding forgiveness for unforgivable acts. It was also an attempt on my part to understand how Cullen reconciles his past as a Templar with what happened in Kirkwall and how he tries to move on. 
> 
> Unfinished and likely to remain that way.

“The Commander is a good man, and good men make mistakes,” Cassandra pleaded with him.

“Seeker Pentaghast, I was in Kirkwall when the Mage-Templar war first began. I saw with my own two eyes the kind of cruelty that people were capable of in that hellhole. I did my best to ferry people out; sometimes I succeeded and sometimes I failed.

“There was a saying going around the mages who had nothing to do with the violence. Do you know what it is? In Kirkwall, a mage fears two people: Meredith for carrying out atrocities and Cullen for condoning them.

“You let him lead the Inquisition’s army, and I can guarantee you that you’ve lost any possible allies who came from Kirkwall. Varric’s only here because you brought him here, after all.”

“Then doesn’t he deserve a second chance to atone? To do the Maker’s work?”

“Cassandra, I saw Cullen watch as two Templars dragged off a young mage presumably to rape her. I was in shackles on the wall so that I wouldn’t squirm while they lashed at my body with lyrium infused sticks. I still have the scars, if you want proof. Cullen may not have put my wrists into the shackles, but that’s about all I can say for him. He didn’t rape that poor woman.

“But we all heard the struggles, the screaming, the wails, the begging, and finally, the silence. Even through my pain, I fought because that woman needed help. I failed. All I could do was endure the pain and watch as your so-called good man stand their stoically, doing nothing to help.

“Does his sudden change of heart at the climax of Kirkwall’s implosion make up for his apathy? How many people has he watched tortured, brutalized, raped, or killed? Just because his hands didn’t do the work doesn’t make them any less bloody.”

“I-I-“ Cassandra stammered. “I didn’t know-“

“Of course you didn’t know,” Maxwell scoffed. “Most of the people who did know are dead. The rest only saw the betrayal, the choosing the right side scene. That’s what Varric saw. That’s what Hawke saw. I wonder why none of them bothered to ask Anders why he would rather blow up the Chantry and risk killing innocent people than suffer at the hands of his tormentors.

“Indifference is as bad as hatred. Whatever excuse Cullen has, whatever horrors he was fighting within himself, there is little reason for me to pardon him.”

“B-but we cannot remove him! He is one of the faces of the Inquisition!” Cassandra cried.

Maxwell sighed. “Look, the world’s ending. A mage is being worshiped as Andraste’s Herald. The sky is literally falling apart. I would work with Maferath himself if it meant saving the world and the people who live in it.

“I will maintain a friendly, polite, cooperative demeanor around him in public. I will maintain my objectivity because my goal is not to punish a bad man, but to save the world. I will allow the Inquisition to have the united front it desperately needs. You do not need to worry on that account.

“But I expect you to tell the Inquisition’s leaders about the kind of man they’ve entrusted their soldiers to and why I would gladly slit his throat once the world is saved.

“Now, I’ve just done the impossible by physically walking out of the Fade. I was falsely accused of murder by you, slapped into chains, thrown into a dank cell with untreated wounds, no food or water, and little by the way of clothing. It is no less than I expect for a mage. However, it’s been a long day and since I have finally earned the privilege of sleeping in a bed instead of the stone floor, I must take my leave.

“Sweet dreams, Seeker.”

Maxwell gracefully swept out of the room, regal and dignified and more commanding than many people she’d met in her life.

What a mess. Cassandra allowed herself a moment of weakness, scrubbing her face with her hands. 

If what Maxwell said was true… Well, Leliana probably knew already and had plans within plans in place.

She stood up, took a deep breath, and made for Varric’s room.

“Seeker, to what do I owe the gift of your presence?” Varric gave her a deep bow and gestured for her to enter. “If you’re still looking for Hawke, then I have to tell you, you’re really out of luck. No one has any idea where he is.”

“Not Hawke,” Cassandra said. She paced back and forth the length of Varric’s small room.

“Oh?”

“Cullen. The Commander of the Inquisition’s Army. What do you know of him?”

“You’re asking about Curly?” Varric was confused. “Why?”

“Just answer the question,” Cassandra gritted out.

“Alright, no need to get touchy, Seeker,” Varric put his arms up in placation. “What do you want to know about your Commander? Keep in mind that we were basically on opposite sides in Kirkwall. I might have a biased opinion because of that.”

“The truth. Whatever truth you know. What was Cullen like in Kirkwall? How did he treat the mages? What role did he play in the conflict?”

“Well, everyone knows he’s one of the few good things to come out of the whole mess. He turned on his Knight-Commander at the end and sided with Hawke’s group. I don’t know what you’re looking for, Seeker,” Varric said. “Pretty much every time I saw him, I was in the company of a blood mage, a not-so-secret apostate, and an abomination, to say nothing of a pirate thief and a broody elf who only smiled when he was ripping the hearts out of his enemies.”

“I want to know your impression of him. Is he a good man?”

“Why are you asking me?” Varric tilted his head. “Aren’t you the one who invited him to join your Inquisition? Shouldn’t you know the answer?”

“I thought I did,” Cassandra said softly. “But I might have made a mistake.”

Varric looked over to see Cassandra looking weary and exhausted. He had no idea what sort of information she was fishing for, but at least she seemed to genuinely want to hear his opinion.

“You wanna know what I think of the Commander? He’ll be good for the Inquisition. He’s a talented soldier; comes from all the Templar training. He’ll be able to coordinate forces on the battlefield and think of effective strategies outside of it.

“But is he a good man? All I saw was someone who stood by and did nothing when innocent people were being killed. He did right in the end, but who can say if that balances out all he allowed to happen?”


	2. Chapter 2

“YOU!“ Trevelyan roared, lunging for Cullen. Cassandra tried to hold him back, but was too late.

Trevelyan tackled the other man to the ground and punched him in the face. A sickening crack could be heard. Cullen’s nose or cheekbone was probably broken from the force of the blow.

Before Cassandra could try to restrain their not-quite prisoner, Trevelyan rolled off and stood up. He made his way to the apostate elf’s side, barking something in Elvhen that made the elf frown.

Cullen groaned in pain, and Cassandra hastily made her way to his side. Blood was spurting out of his nose and into his mouth, casting his grimace in a strangely grotesque sight.

“Maker, what was that?” He hacked and spit out a glob of blood.

“Pay back, Cullen Rutherford,” Trevelyan said icily. “Did you know, you’re the second most hated person in all of Kirkwall? Even the Ashriok is less despised than you are. Nothing can top Knight-Commander Meredith, but you sure do give her a run for her money.”

Cullen paled and flinched. “I am not that person anymore. I am no longer a Templar-“

“Ho, no longer a Templar? I’ve got news for you, once a Templar, always a Templar.” Trevelyan bared his teeth in a smile. “You’re making a liar of me, Ser Templar. Didn’t I promise you, before you ran from Kirkwall with your tail between your legs, that the next time we met, I would be responsible for you taking your last breath?

“But you’ve made yourself indispensable to the Inquisition. Such a cushy position you’ve managed to wrangle for yourself, Commander.” Trevelyan made the title sound like an insult. Cassandra was reluctantly impressed.

“But no matter what you do, the blood of innocents still stains your hands.” Trevelyan flicked a glance down. Cullen practically trembled as he put his hands behind his back. 

“Enough!” Cassandra cut in, unwilling to see her colleague mercilessly torn apart with words.

“No, Seeker,” Trevelyan said calmly. “Not enough. Never enough. But apparently the world is coming to an end, and your Commander is instrumental in stopping it. He is safe from me, for now. But after? Well.” He chuckled mirthlessly and turned around, walking back to their temporary campsite.

“Your Inquisition keeps interesting company, Seeker.” The apostate shot an unreadable look at Cullen and then somehow teleported to Trevelyan’s side, who didn’t even flinch.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

“Give me something, Commander,” the Herald snapped.

“I-I,” Cullen stammered. “We’re surrounded-“

“Tell me something I don’t know. A plan, a strategy, anything,” the Herald hissed at Cullen. “You must have something in that head of yours that will be of use.”

Cullen flushed. So far, the Herald had made great effort in keeping his hatred and hostility towards the Commander behind closed doors and away from the curious, prying eyes of Haven’s population. Sequestered in the War Room, the Herald was brutal, never missing a chance to belittle or mock Cullen. 

Josephine would wince with something like sympathy and diplomatically ignore the insults. 

Leliana would sport a strange, amused smirk and say nothing.

Cassandra would grumble and roll her eyes, but otherwise pretend not to notice.

Without an audience, Trevelyan did not hold back. Anything was fair game. From his unrequited, unwise crush on Warden-Commander Amell to the time he spent on his hair in the mornings, Trevelyan used it all.

A snide remark here – “The Grey Wardens, I believe you were in love with one of them, Commander – to a cutting jibe there – “Ah, it’s a pity you’re no longer a Templar,” the Herald said, kicking the corpse of one of the dead Templars – it was driving Cullen to the brink of insanity. 

The rest of the Herald’s companions knew little to nothing of the tension between him and Cullen. Trevelyan was unfailingly polite and professional, but not so distant as to spark rumors of infighting.

Perhaps the apostate elf knew. He was frostily polite but made a point of avoiding the Commander whenever possible.

The Qunari mercenary, the Herald’s lover, definitely knew. The Iron Bull treated Cullen with a boisterous friendliness that screamed of insincerity. 

But the First Enchantress? The Tevinter Mage? The Grey Warden? The elf archer? They seemed to have no clue.

Until now, at least.

Trevelyan was glaring at Cullen with such intensity that he wouldn’t be surprised if he spontaneously caught on fire.


End file.
